The Club
by XenaDragon-xoxo
Summary: Poppy is late. Luckily, Rolanda's found a way to occupy herself while waiting. A bit of a kinky oneshot. Warnings inside.


**Warnings:** Exhibitionism, group sex  
 **Summary:** Poppy is late. Luckily, Rolanda's found a way to occupy herself while waiting.  
 **Written for prompts:** 1) All or nothing, 2) Temptation, 3) Exhibitionism

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The Club

At a quiet junction in Knockturn Alley, Poppy quietly stepped out of a fireplace. Dusting soot off her clothes, she hurriedly paced out of the empty, broken-down building and into the street. It was very late, and the area was barely illuminated by candle-lit lamps, most of which were broken in one way or another.

Her flats clicked against the cobbled roads as she briskly walked a route she had long committed to memory. A few dubious salespersons' eyes lingered on her as she rushed past them, but most recognized her and knew from experience not to bother her. She had never fallen for their marketing tactics - if they could indeed be called that - and she wasn't going to hold off on sending jinxes their way if they overstepped a line.

She finally arrived at a dilapidated house in a sparsely inhabited cluster of homes. Overstepping a few spots in the pavement that led up to the house's front door - spots which would have exploded with a series of curses if she'd put so much as a fraction of her weight on them - she drew her wand. She tapped smartly on the doorknob once, twice, thrice, four times, and then waved her wand in the air in a series of complex patterns.

The knocker on the door, shaped like a badger and with a chipped off ear, shook itself to life. "Password?" it asked, almost lazily.

"Chizpurfle carapace," said Poppy.

The badger seemed content with her answer. The door swung open, and she strolled inside, glancing behind her once as the door slammed shut again.

"You're late," someone said.

Poppy looked up and smiled at the man guarding the entrance to the room ahead. "I know. She's not too angry at me, is she?"

"You can never tell with Rolanda," replied the doorman. "If you ask me, she looks like she's having a well good time."

Poppy chuckled. "Thanks, Hallward."

Hallward nodded and stepped back to allow her through.

The moment Poppy stepped through the magical barrier that made the room beyond appear ordinary and empty from the outside, everything changed. The smell of sex was heavy in the air, a scent that immediately kick started the warmth she'd felt in her center for the past few hours and pushed it into a burning frenzy. Instead of collapsed walls, exposed brick, and clutters of fallen debris, the room was coated in bright red, embossed wallpaper, opulent chandeliers hung like gigantic earrings from the ceiling, and a smooth, varnished wooden floor beneath her feet caused her footsteps to echo as she walked. Straps and suspension ropes hung from the ceiling. Around her, several well-dressed individuals were seated in neat rows, some visibly flushed, others buckling their belts, and a select few merely enjoying the spectacle in front of them coolly with watchful eyes, small smirks on their lips.

In the center of the attention from this audience were several nude and half-nude men and women, and it was to this group that Poppy walked towards. One of them, the star of the show that night, was lying on top of a rather large table, completely naked, legs spread and sunkissed skin on full display. At that very moment, she was writhing in pleasure, her short hair damp and mussed with sweat, her husky voice crying out in ecstasy as she was fucked, a thick cock pounding in and out of her roughly, causing her moans to come out in stutters. On either side of her were two women lavishing her with attention, running their hands over her body and their tongues over her nipples in hypnotizing swirls that made Poppy's mouth water.

Rolanda's yellow eyes, blown wide open with lust, found Poppy's blue ones. "You're… late…" she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

"Sorry," she said, acting completely indifferent to the debauchery taking place right in front of her. Still, she knew Rolanda would have noticed the flush rising to her cheeks by now. "Got held up. One of the Weasley twins got themselves into a scrape again." She pushed at the person currently in the middle of fucking Rolanda. "Are you done yet?" she asked.

"Poppy… behave…!" Rolanda chastised, but it was hard to take her attempt at a stern tone seriously while she was gasping and whimpering between words.

Poppy felt a devious smile come to her lips as she disrobed. There was a palpable shift in tension in the room as she did so, because the regulars at this establishment knew that when she and Rolanda engaged with each other, the passion was resonant, reverberative, consuming. It was something many of them waited all night to see every single Friday.

The air, warm and humid with lust, kissed her skin as she removed the last remnants of her clothing. Her body was already beginning to tingle with anticipation, shivers descending on her skin when one of the participants touched her shoulder. She climbed onto the table, easily straddling Rolanda's face and bringing herself down to meet her.

Rolanda often told her that Poppy had a tendency to be very "all or nothing" - she was either all covered up, blushing at every mild innuendo, and as stiff as she could be, or she was delving deep into the kinkiest of fetishes, completely naked in a room full of clothed individuals, moaning and thrusting her hips with abandon. But in spite of the care with which she handled herself at Hogwarts, she could never resist the temptation of Rolanda Hooch.

The moment Poppy felt Rolanda's skilled tongue gently licking slow, lingering circles around her clit, Poppy threw her head back and gasped, savoring that delicious, sinful feeling. It always took a few minutes, after a long week of being strict and fierce with the students under her care, for her to fully relax again. Even the nights of fervor and screams silenced by rushed, messy kisses that she and Rolanda shared between their trips here still involved maintaining some degree of discretion and decorum so as not to be heard. Here, all of that went out the window, and her stress and cares fell away.

Poppy could see the gaze of the entire room on her, and she drank it in as it further fueled her arousal. Even as her eyes slid shut, she could still feel the heat of those stares on her, and the knowledge that her lewd actions were tantalizing so many eager watchers consumed the last shred of her modesty. She smiled to herself as she turned slightly to pull down the trousers of a man standing beside her, opening her mouth to taste his skin. She had a long, incredible night ahead.


End file.
